Prompt: Let Go.

By: Alice Bradley (@finslippy)

What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

Before I answer this question, I have to tell you a story about a boy I used to know.

For the sake of privacy, I will call this boy “Spokane,” because that is where he is from. It’s specific enough that people who know this story should know who I am talking about, but vague enough that if you don’t know, you probably won’t ever know. Not that it matters.

This story starts more than six years ago, when I was freshman in college. I met Spokane three days before the end of the year at the campus Christian group that we both attended. I was intrigued by him, and spent the entire summer pining away at a boy I had barely conversed with. When we returned to school for my sophomore year, it didn’t take long before Spokane figured out that I had a major crush on him. At a fall retreat, he let me down gently that he wasn’t interested in me. To my surprise, I was OK with that. I had never had a boyfriend before, so all my relationships with boys were always as friends. I thought we could easily slip in a friendship relationship and all would be good. I liked him, I said, and I just wanted to hang out, even if it wasn’t as his girlfriend.

Easier said than done. A few months later, it was more than obvious to everyone that this was not going to work out. He was also a bit of a flake and forgetful, which would irritate me, but Spokane didn’t seem to attempt to change other than offering a simple apology. Spokane was also concerned that he was leading me on and that this would end up hurting me. I was still persistent, which led Spokane to arrange a meeting that involved the two of us, plus a mutual friend who served as a “witness.” In this meeting, Spokane gently but firmly told me that he thought it would be best if we never spoke to each other ever again.

And we haven’t since then.

Reeling from this sudden course change in our relationship, I went into a major depression. Because Spokane and I were involved in the same social circle, we were together often, which caused major grief for myself and annoyance for everyone else.

This is also when the dreams started. They started suddenly and came often, and they were terrifying. Some of the dreams were violent, others were filled with angry outbursts and fear. I would wake up visibly shaken and very upset. They were the closest I’ve ever had to real nightmares.

Spokane went away for the summer, while I stayed in the city, working and going to therapy at the local Christian college that offered discounted counseling sessions for students at my college (a state school). He didn’t return for the fall of my junior year, and instead went on a semester abroad program. By the time he returned, I had already left the youth group we attended, having decided that my true friends were elsewhere and that I didn’t need to suffer anxiety for a group of fair-weather friends.

But the dreams kept coming. They started to change, slowly. Where I was once fearful, in my dreams, I started conversing with him, something I was not able to do in real life. My dreams narrated a reunion of sorts, our first time speaking again. In the dreams, I was stronger. I held my head high. I thought this meant that I was psychologically getting better. I closed out my junior year with a move back to Portland for a semester there, both for an opportunity at a journalism program and also to escape the real Spokane.

The dream Spokane never left. Even when we both graduated from college in 2007, when I moved across the country and he moved to Mexico, dream Spokane was still there. Even when I knew he was married and I was in a relationship with Erik, Spokane was still there. The dreams come less and less. Maybe two or three a year, compared with two or three a week when they first started.

As with most people who have seen a relationship end, I have done my share of cyberstalking, but the dreams and my visits to his Facebook page never seem to coincide. In fact, the dreams usually happen weeks, or even months, later. I am left wondering if the dreams are a product of my visits, or if my visits are a product of the dreams. It’s hard not to be curious when the ghost of Christmas past continues to visit. I have gone months without checking in on his Facebook page, and yet, the dreams will come.  I have let go of the desire to see him suffering and miserable, and now when I see how well he is doing, I am happy that we are both doing so well.

Since the beginning, the dreams have always been about the first time we see each other again. But because of my cyberstalking, the dreams change to mimic our real lives. The dreams are evolving, and yet, they are the same. They have transitioned from being a time of panic and fear, to a reunion between old friends. My dreams, I think, are a reflection on an internal release, not so much of Spokane himself, but of the anxiety that he brought me.

I have never had the opportunity to tell the real Spokane any of this, but through my dreams, I have been able to progress the relationship and find some sense of closure. The dreams were my way of getting over him, of understanding for myself that I was okay, and to resolve something that I could never and would never be able to do in real life. Even with a sense of closure and an acceptance that this is the way that it is, he is still there. Perhaps he will always be there, inside my head. I think I will always  have a small longing to tell the real Spokane that I am okay, that I got over him (romantically), and that I’m happy for him and his family.

What I let go this year was not Spokane himself, but the anxiety of his memory and the dreams. For years, I hated having the dreams. But I have let go the idea that the dreams meant something was wrong with me. Now, when he visits me, when my subconscious resurrects his image, there is a fondness that I have retained. Spokane is a part of who I am. He is part of my story. He taught me many things about myself. What I value in a relationship. What I value in a friend. What I value in myself. Spokane will most likely never know any of this. It has been nearly six years since we last spoke.

Sometimes, I think you need to let go of the idea of letting go. Maybe the dream Spokane will always be there, until the time when my subconscious also has to let go. But I am okay with that. I have let it go the need for Spokane to disappear from my life, and I am at peace with the dreams.

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